


forever seems too short (for us)

by boyfrendery



Series: patience [2]
Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: (again), Aged-Up Character(s), Anal Sex, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, Kitchen Sex, M/M, Making Love, Marriage Proposal, Moving In Together, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Smut, Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas-centric, there are so many feelings lucas has so many
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-12
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:41:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24584743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/boyfrendery/pseuds/boyfrendery
Summary: “I want you all the time, baobei.” Lucas leans forward, tilts his head to brush the tip of his nose over Renjun’s cheek. “Don’t you?”Lucas doesn’t mean much with the question. It’s a press for reciprocation, reassurance, so he’s taken aback when Renjun stiffens under his touch, pulling away again to look Lucas directly in the eye. “Of course I do, Xuxi. I’ll always want you.”or: lucas and renjun buy a house and make it their home
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Wong Yuk Hei | Lucas
Series: patience [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1931506
Comments: 17
Kudos: 191





	forever seems too short (for us)

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=548I-i5jEWo) song.
> 
> couldn't keep these two off my mind so i present: an epilogue to dildo!luren ♡ it isn't 100% necessary to read _be right here_ prior to this fic however there are some call backs to that story. i recommend reading it first if you haven't already :) enjoy!

“Do we have more newspapers?” Lucas asks from the kitchen. On the counter in front of him is a stack of glass cups; well, not _cups,_ but mason jars, the nicest beverage container they could afford when they moved in years ago. Beside his feet sits a half-full storage tote, their small collection of plates and bowls wrapped in yesterday’s paper.

Lucas looks up from the tote toward Renjun, his boyfriend’s head peeking out of their bedroom. Renjun nods. “I’ve got some more here, just give me a sec.”

Metal rips through the air as Renjun closes the suitcase laid out on the floor. He lifts it upright and rolls it toward their front door, lining it next to another suitcase. Both luggages stand tidily along the wall, each one puffing with the contents of their bedroom closet. Renjun’s oversized shirts, Lucas’ ties and socks, their sweaters — they’re all rolled and folded strategically to fit inside.

Renjun places the sheets of newspaper on the counter. “The bedroom’s done. I’m gonna put away the stuff on the shelves.” Renjun points to the faded black bookshelf next to the living room window. “Wanna help me when you’re done here?”

“Yeah, sure. But first,” Lucas pauses, turning to face Renjun. He sets down the glass in his hand, opting to reach for Renjun’s waist, bringing him closer. Like this Lucas can see the faded out scars on his cheeks, the slight shadows under his eyes, the lone mole on his face. Renjun’s grown-out bangs fall messily over the top of his forehead — Lucas brushes the strands aside, clearing the way for him to press a kiss along the bridge of his nose, the center space between his eyelids. 

Renjun flinches, scrunching his eyes and nose, and Lucas pecks his forehead mole for good measure. “There. Now you can go back to packing. I’ll join you later.”

Renjun tries to look annoyed but the small smile on his lips, the rosiness dusting the top of his ears, gives his true feelings away. No amount of control for his emotions could mask the fondness beneath his expression. “What was that for?”

Lucas tilts his head to get a better look of Renjun, still shy from sudden bursts of affection. Even now he isn’t immune to Lucas’ flirting.

“No reason,” Lucas replies. He spans his fingers around Renjun’s waist, skims his hand along his side to curl his fingers over his hip. “You’re just really kissable, that’s all.”

That elicits a roll of the eyes from Renjun. A blush blooms across his cheeks but Renjun chooses to act against it: he takes Lucas’ hand off his hip and intertwines their fingers. “You can kiss me all you want when we’re done packing.” Renjun hooks their pinky fingers together, bringing them to his lips. “I promise.”

Lucas mimics the kiss, lifting their pinkies to his lips, and then Renjun walks back toward the living room, leaving Lucas to continue his task of packing away their kitchenware.

With a new stack of newspapers to use and the promise of kisses to look forward to, Lucas allows the music from their speakers to fill his ears while he works. He places each glass on its side, curves the paper inward, rolls, repeats; it’s cyclical, easy, and in the time it takes for _From Midnight to Sunrise_ to start and end, Lucas finishes stowing the rest of their kitchen into two storage containers.

The sight of their apartment slowly emptying out is new for him, something he hasn’t had to experience since the day he moved out of his parent’s house. The last time Lucas had to pack _anything_ into a luggage was for their vacation to Thailand last year, and even then it was Renjun who took on the task of folding their clothes. 

Renjun is better at stuff like that anyway, the precision and strategy involved more of his forte. Lucas looks at him across the room and thinks he’s kind of cute like this: completely concentrated, his tongue sticking out from the corner of his mouth as he boxes the yearbooks and picture frames from their shelf.

Now, seeing how everything fits into these containers — their winter coats and shoes, every pot and pan and knife, their life stored in boxes and totes and bags and luggages — tugs at Lucas’ heartstrings. There’s an overwhelming finality to the sight. An endpoint with the closure of each container. Today marks the end of their one-bedroom apartment life, a new start beginning the moment they step into their house tomorrow. 

There’s no true sadness to the feeling. Lucas is over-the-moon excited to move out of this teeny place, so ready to move into a place that’s _theirs_ , take their house and create a home with Renjun. He’s ready for whatever else life chooses to bring them, ready for a life spent together, yet something inside holds him back, hesitant. 

A shiny years-old promise burns in the pocket of his jeans, nestled in the creases of his wallet. Waiting. He remembers the day: the midwinter snow falling around them, snowflakes caught along their eyelashes, 18-year old Renjun’s mittened hand holding his, their breaths visible in the air.

_“I’ll be the one to ask you.”_

_“Aren’t you asking me now?” Renjun joked._

_“No, not now.” Lucas replied. “But I will one day.”_

_“You promise?” Renjun asked._

_“I promise.”_

Lucas has been ready for months, the question sitting at the base of his throat. And still: he waits.

  
  
  
  


Their apartment completely empties out by 12:01pm the next day.

Lucas only knows this because time is the last piece of themselves that he packs away: their living room clock, its resounding tick echoing through their empty home with its minute hand one degree away from 12. He takes it down from the wall moments before they leave, carrying it in one hand while Renjun locks their door for the last time.

Downstairs Renjun’s parents wait for them. With all their belongings divided between two vehicles, Renjun and Lucas part ways, Renjun seated in the passenger side of the moving van with his father while Lucas drives his car with Renjun’s mother.

The drive there is almost half an hour through the Saturday traffic. The sky is clear and bright, sunny enough to warrant the use of sunglasses while Lucas cruises along Seoul’s busy streets. Renjun’s mother has her window rolled down, the small slit at the top providing some relief from the warm sunlight.

It’s a quiet car ride to start. The radio plays one, two songs, breaking for ads for a few minutes between the third and fourth song. They stop at a red light and Renjun’s mother breaks the silence.

“Did Renjun tell you that his cousin got engaged last month?”

Lucas can see where this is going. He holds his breath, signals to switch lanes. Exhales. “No, _ayi_ —”

“Xuxi, you can call me mom.”

“—no, mom, he didn’t.” He tries to flash her a toothy smile but he feels it fail to meet his eyes. “We saw the news on Instagram. Is there a date for the wedding?”

“Sometime next summer,” she says wistfully, eyes out the window. A heartbeat and a half pass, wind rustling through the slit of the window. “She’s close to your age, you know. Only one year older.”

They halt at another red light. An elderly couple crosses the road in front of them, clutching onto their canes and each other, rickety and slow.

“We married when we were your age. June 20, 1998. Small wedding back home, just close family and friends.” She shifts in her seat, tone dipping low when she speaks. “I thought the best day of my life would be the day I married my husband, and it was, until the day Renjun was born. I looked at him all swaddled in a blanket and fell in love. He’s the light of my life, that boy. The spark that completely lights up my world. My precious—”

“Baobei,” Lucas says.

“Yes,” she smiles, turning to look at Lucas. She leans toward the window again, chin propped onto her hand. “My baobei. And your baobei, too.”

The light turns green and she doesn’t say any more. There’s nothing left for her to say when Lucas _knows_ what she’s trying to tell him, what this conversation is about. A follow-up to the one they had years ago, while Renjun was away for school, the one he never told Renjun about, asked his parents not to mention: he received their permission, a blessing, and he’s kept them on hold ever since.

She waits for him to speak again, patient and knowing the way a mother is, but Lucas doesn’t say anything either. He stays silent with her, waits until they’re parked in front of the house, Renjun and his father nowhere to be seen.

He shuts off the engine of the car. “Has he mentioned anything to you?”

“No, you know him.” Renjun’s mother shrugs. “He doesn’t like to worry us. I’m sure he’d rather wait in quiet turmoil than talk to anyone about how he’s feeling.”

He understands. Even with him Renjun can be a bit guarded, putting up a strong front to prevent anyone from worrying about him when there’s something on his mind. Case in point: the months Renjun spent abroad for school, all the feigned smiles he’d offer to the camera whenever they video called.

Lucas glances up at the rearview mirror in search of the moving van. No sign to be seen. He reaches into the backpocket of his pants and pulls out his wallet, resting it on his lap as he wades through the bills and cards inside.

It’s been a few days since he last looked at it. Under the natural light it glistens, pretty in the sun, eight months old yet brand new. He offers the ring for her to see, lifting it high enough for it to sparkle from all angles.

“How long have you had it?” She asks.

He tucks it back into his wallet. “Almost a year. I’ve been trying to ask but…” Lucas trails off. He can’t explain this the way he wants to. “We saw the listing to the house and— and that happened really quickly. No good time has come up yet. But I will soon. I promise.”

“You don’t have to promise me anything. I know you will eventually.” She unbuckles her seat belt and opens the passenger door. Tires squeak along the pavement as the moving van parks behind them on the street. Renjun’s mother turns to Lucas before stepping out of the car: “he would wait forever for you, Xuxi. But don’t keep him waiting that long.”

  
  
  
  


Moving into a new home proves just as difficult as moving out. Lucas thinks it might be _worse_ , but any games of comparison don’t matter right now. Lucas and Renjun walk into the house first, taking a moment for themselves while Renjun’s parents open up the moving van.

It’s _beautiful_ : two bedrooms and a bathroom, windows in every room, fresh paint and oak across their home, white walls and fruitwood floors. Wooden cabinets that span the entire wall of the kitchen, faced parallel to the living-dining area. A new washer-dryer set, a gas stove, a double-door fridge for all their food. Two bedrooms, one for them, another a blank canvas. Will they buy another bed and make it a guest room? Convert it into an office for Renjun to have at-home therapy clients? Or maybe, just maybe, they’ll adopt a child of their own, paint the walls daffodil and decorate the ceiling with glow-in-the-dark stars, read bedtime stories under their watch. 

Their house is beautiful and it’s _surreal_ , knowing this is all theirs. They’ve shared a home for the last six years but this is different: this is _theirs_ , their names signed on a mortgage, the subtle shift from apartment renters to house owners. This is theirs for the long-run.

Yet the newness of this feeling isn’t scary, not in the way Lucas thought it would be. Sure, being tied down to a mortgage _is_ scary. It’s scary for him to realize he’s an actual adult with grown-up responsibilities and bills to pay. They’re not little boys playing house or college kids scraping by anymore.

But committing to this, committing to something that’s _theirs_ , isn’t scary. It makes sense. Somehow this all makes sense with Renjun, feels more right than the squeeze of their hands together, the fit of his fingers between the spaces of his. Right.

They spend the afternoon unloading the van and car and cleaning up their house. Renjun’s mother busies herself by cleaning every inch of the home, singing quietly as she scrubs the sinks and sweeps the floors. Renjun stays in the dining and living area, setting up their TV stand and reshelving their picture frames. 

Lucas rebuilds their disassembled bed frame with the help of Renjun’s dad, both of them squat on the floor as they put the pieces together. The mattress is propped against the wall beneath the bedroom window, bare of any linens.

Lucas turns around to hand a piece of the metal frame to Renjun’s father. “This goes here—”

“Xuxi.” Renjun’s father puts down the metal in his hand. “Come, sit.”

Lucas is already sitting pretty close to him, doesn’t see why he needs to nudge any closer, but he does, approaching Renjun’s father.

“I spoke to my wife earlier.”

 _Oh_ , that’s what this is about. Lucas sits on his bottom against the floor, legs bent, arms propped on his knees. He twists the screwdriver in his hands, rotating the pointed tip between his fingers.

“She told me about your…” Renjun’s father pauses, searching for the right word. He tilts his head to look out the bedroom door, past Lucas’ shoulder, before speaking again. “Your surprise. The one in your wallet.”

Lucas whispers. “Do you… want to see it? Or—”

“No, no,” he stops and turns to look Lucas in the eye. “I don’t know what’s holding you back, Xuxi, but I understand. It took me a year to find the courage to propose to Renjun’s mother.”

“How’d you know when to do it?” Lucas asks. 

“We bought tickets for an art exhibit she wanted to see. I don’t enjoy museums the way she does — Renjun gets that from _her_ , not me — but she was very excited to go. She wouldn’t stop talking about it. I looked up some pictures of the exhibit ahead of time and asked her in front of a painting she liked. I think I would’ve proposed to her that day anyway.”

Lucas nods. “He’s never told me that story.”

He laughs, hearty, crow’s feet along the edge of his eyes ( _like Renjun_ , Lucas notices). “I can’t remember if I’ve told him. My point is that you… you don’t have to tell me what’s on your mind, Xuxi, but you’ll know when it’s right. I’m here if you need anything. Father to son. I know your mom and dad moved back to Hong Kong so you can— you’re always welcome to talk to us. Both me and Renjun’s mother.”

Renjun’s father pats him on the shoulder, good-natured with a stern expression, and turns away, picking up the pieces of the bed frame. 

Lucas doesn’t know what to make of the conversation — of _either_ of the conversations today, what the gods are conspiring against him to bring this up twice. He counts himself lucky that the Huangs genuinely like him, that he trusts them enough to unload some of his worries. Their words of encouragement, as well-intentioned as they may have been, only add pressure to the decision that Lucas has been mulling over all week: if now is the right time for them or if he should wait a little longer, save up a bit more money to give themselves the wedding they deserve, that the Huangs and his own parents deserve to see. The weight of the tiny ring in his pocket only feels heavier when Lucas stands up again. 

“I’ll be back,” Lucas says, and Renjun’s father waves him off, too preoccupied with the instruction manual in front of him.

In the kitchen Renjun’s mom has taken to wiping down the inside of the fridge. Renjun has the tote of mason jars next to him, placing each glass on the shelves above the sink.

Lucas brushes past Renjun as he’s putting one away. The years of being together can’t suppress the sweet feeling this view gives Lucas, seeing his boyfriend tiptoeing for the top shelf. Whatever inches Renjun lacks in height he makes up for in his personality: quiet with confidence, stubborn when determined, steadfast in his love. A menace when he wants to be, affectionate at all the right times.

Still, temptation sits on Lucas’ shoulder like the devil and, yeah, Renjun does get really annoyed when he’s reminded of their height difference, but Lucas has spent years _living_ with this man. He’s witnessed every possible emotion that Renjun has inside of him. He can handle his boyfriend when he’s annoyed.

So he picks up Renjun around his middle, both hands holding either side of his waist to help him out, and lifts him up to reach the top shelf.

When Renjun stands back on the ground, he turns on his heel to flick Lucas’ face, a bullseye over the mole on his forehead.

“I guess I deserved that,” Lucas says gingerly. He hunches next to the counter, rubbing the palm of his hand over the spot. 

“Yup, you did.” But any threat in Renjun’s voice is gone, just a smile as he tilts his chin up, standing tiptoed to kiss Lucas’ forehead.

Lucas brings Renjun into a hug and returns the gesture, adorning the hills and valleys of Renjun’s face with sweet pecks of affection: his brow bone, his temple, quick over the tip of his nose and cheek. Renjun giggles, trying to push Lucas away with whines of protest, but gives up with a shrug of his arms, placing them around Lucas torso.

For a few moments they stand there, wrapped up in each other, Lucas’ nose buried in the softness of Renjun’s hair, and he forgets about what they’re supposed to be doing, completely content with being right where they are.

Until Renjun’s mother clears her throat, leaving space for a heartbeat to pass before saying, “should I be leaving?”

Lucas, cheeks pink-tinted and warm, quickly denies her suggestion with a shake of the head. “Not necessary, mom.”

He takes leave, heading back to the bedroom, and nearly misses the surprised glance Renjun sends toward his mother.

  
  
  
  


One bed frame and a couple rearrangements of their furniture later, they drive Renjun’s parents halfway across Seoul to drop them home. Lucas watches Renjun hug both of his parents, witnessing how Renjun’s mom rubs his back in soothing strokes, and his heart swells with admiration for the Huangs, their little family, his family.

When Lucas and Renjun get back to their house, Donghyuck’s cherry red car is parked next to the sidewalk. The Lees sit in front while Jaemin and Jeno occupy the backseat.

“We come bearing gifts!” Donghyuck exclaims, opening the driver’s side door. He follows Renjun inside the house, Jeno and Jaemin tailing behind him with boxes of pizza and cases of beer in their hands.

Lucas approaches the car as Mark steps out. He doesn’t know how he completely missed it before but when Mark plops a plant in front of his feet — well. He’s surprised, to say the least.

“What’s this?”

“Its name is Charles,” Mark explains. Lucas tilts his head, furrows his brow, and allows Mark to continue. “Charles the ficus. It’s a… a type of tree, I guess. A housewarming gift from me and Hyuck for you and Injun.” Mark gives him a smile when he says, “it was my idea. I thought it’d be cool for it to like, grow with you guys in the house. Take care of it together and stuff.”

Lucas gives the plant a good look. It stands just under Lucas’ shoulder, short enough for both of them to see over but tall enough to deserve its own corner in their home The trunk is made up of three thin branches, sprouting up and twisting until they extend out at the top, a crown of bright green leaves. Holding it in both of his hands makes him realize it’s much heavier than it looks — all the soil and the heavy pot, he supposes.

“Thanks, man. I appreciate it. I think Renjun will love it.”

It’s been just over a year since the Lee wedding: a balmy beachside ceremony in Jeju, July’s summer heat shining above the Lees on their big day. Renjun and Lucas stood at the altar on either side of the grooms, sweating more than they’d like to admit in their suits. All the happy tears let out at the reception, the endless shots at the open bar, and their best friends, dancing beneath the moonlight, the happiest newlyweds Lucas had ever seen. 

Lucas thinks of this when Mark offers him a fist bump and notices the gold encircled around his ring finger. Donghyuck’s ring is the exact same, the inner rim lined with Mark’s name.

“Hey, before we go in,” Lucas returns the fist bump, stopping in front of the door. “I needa ask you something.”

“What’s up?” Mark looks concerned but still looks at Lucas with curious eyes.

“Has anything, uh,” Lucas searches for the right way to ask, chooses his words carefully. “Changed between you and Hyuck? Since you got married. I’m… I’m gonna ask him soon.”

“Aww, Lucas!” Mark pulls him in for a hug — around the ficus in his hands, the leaves squished between them. “That’s great, man. As for me and Hyuckie… I think we’re pretty much the same. It was more important for me to get married for the sake of my parents than it was for him. Nothing’s different now. I get to call him my husband and I’m his. That’s pretty much it, but it’s nice. I like having a husband.” 

Donghyuck yells from inside the house, loud enough for Mark and Lucas to hear from outside the door. “Yah, Mark! I’m gonna give your pizza to Jeno if you don’t come inside to eat it!”

Lucas snorts. “Yup, that’s _your_ husband.”

Mark rolls his eyes but any malice is covered by his smile, his face full of adoration. Of love. “That he is.”

Lucas places Charles in the corner of the living room when they go inside the house. A whole box of pizza is already gone when Lucas sits on the couch next to Renjun. Jeno slowly nurses his can of beer as Jaemin chatters away, telling Renjun about their morning bike ride along the Han River. Mark sits on the floor next to Donghyuck, his husband’s head resting in his lap, alcohol glow all over his cheeks.

Their beer-and-pizza nights are a longstanding tradition that they haven’t done in a while, all their differing work schedules pulling them apart over time. Yet the fuzzy feeling growing in Lucas’ chest is something that won’t ever change. Over a decade of friendship runs between the six of them and none of this — not Jeno’s lightweight drinking habits, not Jaemin’s fond eyes for him, nor the silver-tongued banter between Donghyuck and Renjun — has changed. With the familiarity of their friends filling their living room, Lucas feels certain that no matter whatever milestones and life changes come their way, he can count on this consistency.

Once everyone’s buzzed and full, their friends help Lucas and Renjun unpack the last of their belongings. Mark remains sober for the sake of driving and oversees Donghyuck’s adventure through their wardrobe, Marie Kondo-ing all of Lucas’ socks and Renjun’s t-shirt into neat folds, organizing the dresser. Jeno helps Renjun run some linens through the washer and dryer, two clean sets to be ready for use. Lucas spends the remainder of his evening seated on the floor with Jaemin, setting up their gaming consoles and hooking up the cable TV.

The day comes to an end long past midnight, all four of their friends filing into Donghyuck’s car. They all agree to come by the next available weekend for a proper housewarming party.

“You’ve got a spare room, right?” Jaemin asks from the backseat. A tipsy Jeno leans next to him, nosing along Jaemin’s neck with a soft hum.

Renjun nods, to which Jaemin replies, “good. I’m not lugging this guy,” he points to Jeno, whose eyes are closed on his shoulder, “home next time. We’ll sleep over instead.”

Lucas and Renjun wait for the car to pull out of the neighbourhood and disappear from their view before going inside. As soon as they get ready for bed, Renjun fits himself into Lucas’ side, falling asleep wordlessly as the day’s exhaustion pulls their eyes closed.

  
  
  
  


Lucas wakes up first the next morning.

He doesn’t know what’s more surprising: his boyfriend, still asleep next to him, arms tucked and curled in himself, or the time that greets him when he checks the phone. Afternoon has come through their bedroom window, shining from a direction that Lucas isn’t used to. They didn’t bother to pull the curtains closed before going to bed last night, so the drapes fall in grey cascades down either side of the window, making way for the sunlight to shine through, confident in its rays.

“Psst,” Lucas whispers, “hey. Baobei.”

Renjun groans, still sleep-ridden. His eyes remain shut as he pulls the blanket closer to his chest. “Mmmm,” he murmurs.

Lucas shakes his shoulder, shy to wake him up. He looks peaceful like this, warm and snuggly here, but they _should_ get out of bed. “‘Junnie, it’s already 1pm.”

Renjun whines at that. His brows furrow before he rolls over, blinking his eyes open.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Lucas says, smiling.

Renjun rubs his face with the sleeve of his shirt, scrunching his nose. He sighs before mumbling a weak, “g’morning.”

“You’re really sleepy today.” Lucas inches forward, kissing the crest of his cheekbone.

Renjun yawns. “Just tired. Drank too much last night.”

Lucas nods, understanding. then wraps an arm around Renjun’s waist, placing his palm under his shirt. “We should get up.” He skates his hand further up his back, finger tracing up the length of his spine. “Still got stuff to do.”

Renjun tilts his chin up and glances over Lucas’ face with sleepy eyes. He bats his lashes, tired, before curling himself into Lucas’ touch, face in his chest. “Sleepy. ‘M gonna sleep.” He grabs onto Lucas’ shirt, instinctively pulls him closer. “Go out without me.”

“You’ll have to let me go first.”

“Fine,” Renjun releases his hold and rolls over, closing his eyes. “I’ll be here. Good night.”

A part of Lucas wants to argue with him, just to force him out of bed, but Renjun falls asleep quicker than he can make that decision. Renjun stills, breathing peacefully under the covers, and Lucas decides that the guilt of waking him up is worse than going on a solo trip to the grocery store.

Lucas gets up to close one of the curtains, leaving the room in near darkness. He takes his time to familiarize himself with their new bedroom, clothes all aligned in the closet and folded in their dresser. After a minute of contemplation, Lucas chooses a simple outfit — a white tee and jeans, nothing more needed for a quick trip out — and gets ready for an easy Sunday afternoon.

  
  
  
  


The trip for groceries is unremarkable. Lucas drives for twenty minutes to go shopping at a store he knows, one he’s certain will have all the stuff he’s looking for. It’s a bit excessive to drive that far for meat and vegetables when he knows he could buy stuff closer to home but — but there isn’t an excuse for it, actually. _It’s Sunday_ , he reasons with himself, and there’s no rush to do anything today.

Besides, he already decided that he wants to explore their neighbourhood with Renjun. Hold his hand as they walk through alleyways, try the restaurants close by, look for the best produce market. The excitement and fun of moving somewhere new and discovering its hidden treasures. He’s looking forward to all of it.

The shower is running in the washroom when Lucas gets home an hour later, hands occupied with carrying half a dozen bags of groceries. He toes off his sneakers, knocking them to the side with his feet, and walks toward the fridge.

Last night’s impromptu pizza party left some food for lunch but aside from the box of pizza and a half case of beer, there’s nothing else inside the fridge. Lucas places the grocery bags in a circle around his feet and looks at the space he has to work with, both doors of the fridge swung open.

“You went shopping?”

Lucas feels himself jump back in his skin and nearly drops the carton of eggs in his hand. He turns to see Renjun standing against the archway of their washroom, one hand with a towel in his hair, looking comfy as ever in an oversized long sleeve and a pair of shorts.

He places the eggs on the second shelf of the fridge and hums. “Mhm, just got home.” As Renjun starts to approach him, Lucas extends his hand out toward him. “Wait! Don’t move, just— stand there and close your eyes. I’ve got something for you.”

Renjun obliges, covering his eyes with his hands. “Don’t tell me you made me another dildo. We’ve already done that.”

“Nah, I actually think you’ll like this better.” Lucas rummages through the plastic bags on the floor until he finds it. He places the box on the kitchen counter next to the fridge, then guides Renjun to walk closer to the counter. “Take a look.”

Renjun unpeels his fingers from his eyes, smiling as soon as he sees it. “A waffle iron. You’re a _genius_ , Xuxi.” Lucas grins and Renjun takes the opportunity to lean up, kisses his cheek on the spot right over his dimple. “Let’s have waffles for dinner.”

Lucas pulls out a box of waffle mix from one of the plastic bags, beaming. “That was my plan. But we gotta put everything away first.”

They work together to find a place for all their groceries, snacking on a bowl of sweet grapes while stocking their fridge and pantry. It doesn’t take long for this rhythm of _them_ to settle in: the shared heartbeat of their home keeping them in time, on the same page, evident even in something as simple as putting away their groceries. Renjun rearranges the contents of their freezer and Lucas stacks cans and boxes in their cabinets. Lucas steps aside as Renjun opens the fridge door, navigates his space with consciousness of his other half’s next step, and it’s so _easy_ , working without many words, comfortable.

“Look,” Renjun calls for him to stand in front of the fridge. “I organized it the same way we did in the apartment,” he says. One of the cabinet doors next to the sink is open — Renjun points toward it, continuing. “Did the same thing with the kitchen stuff yesterday. Cups are up there,” he points above the sink, “pots and pans there,” points next to the oven, then toward the drawer closest to the fridge, “utensils here.”

Lucas smiles, grateful for the thoughtfulness. “Nice job, baby. I’m pretty much done, too.”

While Renjun closes the door to the fridge, Lucas walks past him, fingers brushing over his waist — no real intention to it, really, more fleeting affection than anything else. 

Still, Renjun has other plans: he holds onto Lucas’ wrist and pulls him back, cupping both sides of Lucas’ face to guide him lower and lower, breathes and holds him close before kissing him once, then once more, searching for his lips.

“ _Oh_ , oh,” Lucas sighs, pulling away. His hands find purchase on Renjun’s back, settling into the small dip of his spine. “So that’s what you wanna do? Right here?”

“Mhm,” Renjun hums, toying with the neckline of Lucas' t-shirt. His gaze follows the pads of his finger as they brush over his collarbone, up the center of Lucas' face toward his eyes. “Here's perfectly fine.”

“Good.” Lucas takes Renjun by the hips and lifts him up, walking to sit him on the kitchen counter, legs dangling off the edge. “Been wanting to do that since we signed for this place.”

Renjun laughs, eyes crescents with his smile. Lucas settles himself in the space between Renjun’s legs, hands placed on his thighs. Fingers twirl in Lucas’ hair and hook onto the belt loops of his jeans, tugging his body even closer until their noses brush together, breaths and arousal settling like a thick fog over their heads. 

Renjun touches him in a way that Lucas can only describe as perfection. Perfection is the flutter shut of Renjun’s eyelids, the inhale prior to the sigh into his lips, half a second right before they kiss. It’s the way Renjun’s hand caresses Lucas’ face, warm down the side to rest along his shoulder; how each kiss is accompanied by the soft press of Renjun’s fingers into the nape of Lucas’ neck, the insistence, every quiet need expressed without words.

Heaven’s gate opens with the part of Renjun’s lips, a welcome entry for Lucas to press forward, to chase the feeling that sends him beyond the clouds. Renjun draws out all of his movements in patience, slowly sweeping his tongue over Lucas’ bottom lip, lingering there before shifting his angle and kissing him again. He asks for more with every kiss and Lucas answers, gripping his thighs, palms inching further up his legs and squeezing the flesh beneath his shorts. 

“Xuxi,” Renjun sighs into Lucas’ mouth, not letting a millisecond pass before reattaching himself to his lips again. He says it again and Lucas is certain that this is what heaven sounds like: the whimper of his name off of Renjun’s tongue, flawless, perfect.

“Xuxi,” he says once more, a little louder. He retreats back, leans away. “Do you— where’s our lube?”

Their distance gives way for Lucas to kiss Renjun’s throat, licking the ridge beneath his jawline and working south. He dots the length of his neck with kisses while one of his hands finds his back pocket, reaching for his wallet. The other follows suit, carefully feeling for the small foil inside until it’s between his finger tips, held in front of Renjun’s eyes.

Lucas separates himself from Renjun’s neck with a bruising kiss. “I’m always ready.”

Renjun laughs in the form of a huff of air out his nose. He takes the foil packet in his hand and twists it around, judging it with small eyes. “You still keep one of these in your wallet? We’re not horny teenagers, baby.” 

If not for the careful gaze he set on Renjun, Lucas wouldn’t have seen the way his eyes dart down to the floor, swinging his legs over the wood. A hint of shame, maybe, or embarrassment for the past; Lucas can’t tell what hides there. Instead of figuring it out, he takes one of Renjun’s hands in his, intertwining their fingers. “I disagree. We’re still horny,” he pauses, pressing a chaste kiss on Renjun’s birthmark. “Just not teens. But I’d still be okay with a quick fuck in the university washroom like we used to.”

Renjun smiles at the floor before shifting his eyes upward, quirking his lips a little. “Or in the woods, behind our campsite?”

“Even in the back of my car at a movie theatre parking lot. I want you all the time, baobei.” Lucas leans forward, tilts his head to brush the tip of his nose over Renjun’s cheek. “Don’t you?”

Lucas doesn’t mean much with the question. It’s a press for reciprocation, reassurance, so he’s taken aback when Renjun stiffens under his touch, pulling away again to look Lucas directly in the eye. “Of course I do, Xuxi. I’ll always want you.”

Renjun takes Lucas’ face in one of his hands, thumb on his jaw, fingers resting on the side of his neck. Stroking his cheek, loving. “I want you forever.”

Lucas is unsure what it is or why his heart plummets into his stomach. Maybe it’s because Renjun is never _this_ blunt, having spent years learning all the indirect ways he expresses his affection, and how he’s suddenly so forthright with his desire. Or maybe it’s hearing that word directly from his mouth, the honest intention behind it, how the refrigerator hum and outside traffic goes silent with the sound of those three syllables.

Lucas hears “forever” but it doesn’t sound long enough. No measure of time will feel like enough for him. 

And that’s been his problem all along: why he’s spent all these months waiting for a sign, anything, to show him that this is the right moment, that they’ve culminated enough time together to tie the knot. Lucas has been waiting for them to be ready, holding himself back for something that’s already passed. 

There’s no beginning or end to a love that feels everlasting, no number of mornings and nights that can satisfy Lucas’ need to be with Renjun. His soul reaches for him, love outstretched until the ends of his being. It always has.

Without noticing, Renjun’s hand has left Lucas’ cheek, replaced by his head leaning on Lucas’ shoulder, his entire body slouched forward with the warmth of his breath tucked close to Lucas’ neck. Renjun kisses him there in small pecks, nothing more to it than the press of his lips on his skin. 

Renjun faces opposite the kitchen counter, eyes toward the window to look far past Lucas’ shoulder. His vision is nowhere near Lucas’ hands as they fumble behind Renjun’s back, searching his wallet; he doesn’t see what Lucas places in his hand, deep within his palm.

“Baobei?”

Renjun blinks, eyelashes fanning against Lucas’ neck, before sitting up again to look at him. “Yeah?”

Lucas takes both of Renjun’s hands in his, thumb stroking the ridges of his fingers. Notices how nicely they look like this, hands resting on Renjun’s lap, the midafternoon sun peering through their window and lighting up their home. White walls and fruitwood, two bedrooms, one bathroom; Renjun, eye to eye with Lucas, looking at him, waiting.

Lucas won’t keep him waiting anymore.

“I thought I’d do this somewhere different, to be honest.” Lucas lets out a shaky exhale. “I had elaborate plans and scrapped them all. Wrote a script of what I wanted to say and then forgot it. My mind still goes a little blank when I’m around you.

“I can’t remember the exact moment I knew I wanted to marry you. Maybe it was on our second date when we talked about our parents. You told me about yours and I knew I wanted to introduce you to mine.” Lucas pauses, inhaling once before continuing. “Or maybe it was the first time I woke up next to you. You were asleep in my arms and I thought ‘damn, I don’t want to wake up next to anyone else.’”

Renjun smiles at those memories, fingers tightening around Lucas’ hand.

“When you were away for school… I never got used to living without you or waking up to an empty bed. It was so fucking hard, but absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? We kept telling ourselves that.

“We’ve been together for ten years now and I… I’ve known for so long that I wanna live the rest of my life by your side. I want to love you every day, grow old and grey and wrinkly in this house with you. You make me the happiest man in the world, baobei, and I want to be yours forever, for eternity, in this life and the next. Renjun Huang,” Lucas stops, takes the ring out of his hand and places it between his fingertips. “Will you marry me?”

Blood rushes in his ears, heart pounding in his ribcage. Lucas’ mouth is a little dry, in part from all the talking, in part from the adrenaline that rushes through his veins, the nervousness and anticipation and relief of _finally_ proposing. Renjun’s mouth hangs agape, his pretty lips O-shaped, eyes wide and silent, and Lucas really, _really_ hopes Renjun says something soon before his heart bursts right there.

Then Renjun completely surprises him: he bites his lip, wipes the tears prickling the corner of his eyes with his sleeve, and mumbles a sniffly “yeah, I’ll marry you.”

Lucas takes Renjun’s left hand in his, slipping the ring onto his finger. The engagement band is a sleek, small thing: subtle, thin, marked by a black diamond in its center. It sits past the knuckle of Renjun’s ring finger, perfect as it is.

Lucas lifts Renjun’s hand up to his lips and kisses the ring. He rotates Renjun’s wrist to kiss the constellation of moles along the side of his forearm, scattering his love like stars across the sky as he works up his skin, each kiss higher and higher until he reaches the base of Renjun’s throat and kisses the last fragment there, a final peck over his neck mole.

He kisses away the tears that sit along Renjun’s waterline, making him giggle and shut his eyes. Renjun cards his fingers through Lucas’ hair and cradles his face with both hands before dragging him in for a kiss on the lips, a little wet and unrefined. Renjun kisses him in short bursts, each one stifled with laughter and love: “yes”, “god, yes”, “I love you, Xuxi, I can’t wait to marry you.”

The reality of it all doesn’t hit until Renjun’s hand falls into that crook of Lucas’ neck, that familiar warmth contrasted by the metal around his finger, cold against his skin. He looks at Renjun and suddenly their distance is too far, it’s not enough for his hands to sit on Renjun’s lap, needs more than the fingertip touches connecting them. Lucas hugs around Renjun’s waist, arms settling so naturally there, and leans forward to kiss him hard, dizzying, hands raking up Renjun’s back and down his thighs.

Renjun’s legs come up to hook around Lucas’ hips, the heels of his feet nudging Lucas closer, their hips pressed against each other. His body is a set of parentheses enclosed around him, punctuation to the language of Lucas’ love: Lucas surges forward and Renjun pulls away; Renjun tugs his hair and draws him in, coaxes his mouth open only to kiss it closed, tongue hot on cold teeth.

Renjun kisses with an eternity of love between his lips, overflowing. He kisses Lucas with urgency, slides his hands down the front of Lucas’ shirt to end at the buttons of his jeans, undoes the belt and zipper with nimble fingers. Lucas is quick to get the message, separating himself to take off his pants and peel off his shirt. Renjun reaches for the hem of his longsleeve to do the same.

“Hey,” Lucas places his hand over Renjun’s, swatting it away from his shirt. “I’ll do it,” Lucas whispers, pecking Renjun’s cheek.

Lucas dips his fingers under the warmth of Renjun’s long sleeve, tugging off the shirt and dropping it onto the floor. His stomach knots at the sight before him, pressure building in his dick, and it’s too much for him to resist. Lucas nips along Renjun’s skin with his teeth, kisses his neck and chest, down the center of his torso and over his navel.

Renjun watches him without any rush, enjoying how Lucas makes a show of marking him all over. Mirth sits behind his eyes, greed lurking in their darkness. When Lucas reaches his shorts, Renjun’s breath hitches.

The sound of Renjun’s zipper rips the air in two. Lucas stands straight to look at Renjun directly, maintaining eye contact as he slowly undoes the fasten on Renjun’s shorts. He leaves the top of Renjun’s shorts to hang open, hands grabbing at the skin along Renjun’s side, dipping into his hip. He finds Renjun’s lips and kisses him, Renjun clinging onto his body as Lucas lifts him off the counter to shimmy off his shorts and boxers.

Renjun’s fully erect when Lucas finally sees him. He rakes in the smooth expanse of Renjun’s thighs, sitting on top of the kitchen counter, and the ruddy tip of Renjun’s dick leaking precum. Lucas considers taking him in his mouth, swirling his tongue over the head of Renjun’s dick to taste him, and he only becomes aware of how hard _he_ is when his dick twitches, rock hard and waiting to be touched. He decides that Renjun can wait a little longer: they have all Sunday afternoon and he wants to have a little fun first.

“Turn around,” Lucas says, lifting Renjun off the counter to stand on his feet.

Renjun pouts, hand reaching to wrap around Lucas’ dick. “But I _really_ wanted to—” 

“No, no,” Lucas says, shaking his head. It takes all his willpower to hold Renjun’s wrist and move his hand away. Every cell in his brain wants Renjun to keep it there, let him stroke him dry, but he has better plans in mind. “Let me take care of you.”

Lucas kisses Renjun on the lips, then his cheek, holding the swell of Renjun’s ass when he says, “I wanna eat you out right here. How’s that?” He kisses him over the shell of his ear, breath deep and heavy with his whisper. “You want that?”

Renjun bites his lip again — that instinctive nibble, a habit he hasn’t gotten rid of since they were teens — and nods, kissing Lucas again before turning himself around and leaning against the counter.

The floor is cold against his knees when Lucas kneels down, but the way Renjun leans away from the counter, ass out for Lucas and willing, is more than Lucas could ask for. Renjun’s bum is small but perky, fitting perfectly in Lucas’ large hands; he presses his thumbs against his flesh, spreads him apart for entry. He nuzzles his nose there and Renjun shivers at the intrusion, delicate in Lucas’ grasp.

Lucas sticks out his tongue to lick around Renjun’s hole, a precautionary move, breathing through his nostrils to blow warm air against the sensitive area. He hears Renjun sigh from above as his muscles relax under his touch. Lucas takes this as a green light to lick Renjun’s rim.

He tastes like skin, warm, heating up under Lucas’ tongue as he dips into his hole and sucks there. Renjun shudders, suppressing his moan with a bite of his lip.

“ _Ohh_ ,” is all that comes out of Renjun’s mouth when he lets it out, no coherent words while Lucas fucks him with his tongue, each dart inside of him in sync with Lucas squeezing Renjun’s thighs. He bends further against the counter, leaning more of his weight there to keep him stable. Lucas licks, breathes, kisses Renjun’s entrance and leaves it slick and wet and so _sloppy,_ exactly how Renjun likes it.

“Yes, baby, just like that,” Lucas coos, replacing his tongue with one of his fingers. “Sounding so pretty for me.”

Renjun wriggles in his spot, hips restless as Lucas pushes the finger further inside. He moans loudly when Lucas stands up behind him, finger in his ass, massaging his prostate with practiced care.

“Xuxi, _ahh,_ please.”

Lucas skates one hand around Renjun’s waist. He kisses the back of his neck, open-mouthed and messy as he removes his finger from Renjun, holds him up to keep him from toppling down. The grip Renjun has against the counter is knuckle white, his bottom lip red from being bitten, but none of that restraint keeps him from squirming in Lucas’ hold, pressing his ass against Lucas’ pelvis.

“Bend over,” Lucas demands, one palm pressing down on Renjun’s back. He obliges, hips jerking away from the counter until his chest flushes flat against it, his ass open and ready. Lucas swallows the thick feeling in his throat, feigned control to put out the fire aflame in his stomach.

Lucas finds the lube packet and tears it open with his teeth, liberally applying it to his hand. “Good,” Lucas kisses Renjun’s low back, distracts him for a moment. “So good, Renjun, so good, so patient.” His own hand is covered in lube, tight around his dick to coat himself. He tugs, jerking himself for a few strokes.

“Xuxi,” Renjun whines. He shivers when Lucas kisses his back again, the tip of his dick nudging at his entrance. “Xuxi, Xuxi, Xuxi—”

“Shh.” Lucas stands straight, lines himself up, reaching to wrap his hand over Renjun’s mouth. Renjun gasps, eyes wide open when he turns back to look at Lucas, but he doesn’t say anything: only breathes heavily under the weight of Lucas’ hand, inhales and exhales through his nose.

“Can you be quiet for me, baby? Nice and quiet for me while I fuck you?”

Renjun nods, furiously so, tongue licking the hand over his mouth. The knot tightens in Lucas’ stomach even more, the wet warmth of Renjun’s hands over his fingers spurring his desire.

Lucas tightens his grip around Renjun’s waist. He thrusts his hips steadily, gradually pushing in, feeling how Renjun reacts under him, the moan he bites back behind Lucas’ hand. Renjun’s mouth falls open in his palm, a long exhale flaring from his nostrils, hot, and his head tips against the counter.

Lucas allows himself to inch as far in as possible, flushed against Renjun’s ass, and waits. Waits for Renjun to groan under his hand, as best as he can to beg for more, before he takes one long stroke out, then in, working himself slowly to draw out Renjun’s moans beneath his hand. 

Two fingers hook into Renjun’s mouth with the next thrust, plush against his lips, and Renjun licks over them with another moan. Renjun’s tongue coats them with spit, flitting around his fingertips, teasing, and for a moment Lucas regrets not taking up Renjun’s earlier offer, hardening at the thought of Renjun’s tongue all over his dick.

He takes his hand away from Renjun’s mouth, shifting him to stand straighter. Renjun remains quiet when Lucas fucks him like this, biting his lip or mouth smacked shut, waiting for Lucas’ praises.

“So beautiful,” Lucas says, planting kisses down Renjun’s spine, following the wet trail back up his neck until he meets his ear. He shifts his hips and pulls back, hardly anything left inside, leaving Renjun to shake under him, quivering against the kitchen counter.

“Tell me, baby.” Lucas kisses beneath Renjun’s ear, feels how his neck burns up. Holds his waist tighter when he kisses him again, sweet against his earlobe, whispering, “tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m— _fuck_ ,” Renjun groans, keening from how Lucas slowly pushes back in. His head tips back, searching for Lucas’ lips, kissing him with every whimper. “I’m yours, I’m yours, Xuxi, all yours.”

His fingers sink into Renjun’s hair, getting lost in his locks. Lucas tugs, careful and firm, thrusts into Renjun faster. Renjun’s a moaning mess, more so when Lucas tilts his lips to brush against his ear again and asks, “d’you wanna come like this? Mess up our clean counter with your cum?”

“The… the floor,” Renjun gulps. The lump in his throat bobs thickly. “Want you to fuck me on the floor.”

Not the answer Lucas expected, but god, Renjun always keeps him on his toes.

Lucas tilts Renjun’s head to kiss him, mouth moving over his lips as he pulls out. Renjun whimpers again, a sweet little noise at the loss, and Lucas keeps the sound all to himself, stores it away with his kisses.

Renjun turns to face Lucas, a tight hold on Lucas’ hair to pull him down until their lips meet again. And while this is tempting, while Renjun is absolutely set on kissing Lucas with all the longing and need held deep inside him, his hips rutting into Lucas’ thigh, Lucas forces himself to tear away from Renjun’s lips. 

“Lie down, sweetheart.”

The clearing between the kitchen is more than enough space for Renjun to set himself on the floor. It isn’t particularly comfortable, and their couch is literally _right_ there, their bed a few more steps down the hall, but Lucas is too taken by the sight of Renjun on the floor beneath him to argue against what he wants. All Lucas really wants is Renjun: any way, anywhere, always.

He makes the best of the situation. Lucas collects their abandoned clothes — his t-shirt on the kitchen counter, his jeans on the floor, Renjun’s long sleeve and shorts close by — and creates two small piles on the floor, tucking them under Renjun’s back and his head. 

“That okay?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Renjun says, a tiny smile tugging on his lips. “Come here,” he lurches forward, both his arms wrapped around Lucas’ neck to pull him in. Gives him giddy, happy kisses, patting the back of his head in gratitude.

Lucas moves Renjun’s bangs out of his eyes, kissing the bridge of his nose before making his way down. His legs spread for him with ease, giving way for Lucas to settle himself in between his thighs. Renjun looks down at him with hooded eyes, expectant; Lucas kisses Renjun’s navel, his hip bone, leaves fluttering kisses along Renjun’s inner thighs. He looks up through his lashes to watch Renjun chew his lips pink. His fingers get lost in Lucas’ hair, each tug wringing at the knot in Lucas’ stomach, lust twisting its pit.

Any remaining lube from the small packet gets smothered over Lucas’ dick or traced along Renjun’s rim. Lucas thinks this might be the best part: the anticipation before the descent, Renjun watching him, pupils blown, hunger beneath the bite of his lip, bearing himself on the floor; how his own dick throbs in his hand, heavy and leaking, waiting.

Lucas surrounds Renjun with his limbs, legs bracketing Renjun’s body, pinning him to the floor. The wood is unforgiving and rough under his skin but he doesn’t care about the bruises that’ll show up along his shins tomorrow morning. He’ll gladly take each mark as a badge of honour if it means he can cherish the sight of Renjun like this, tugging at his dick in desperation.

Lucas lines himself up and presses forward, completely consumed with the feeling of Renjun tight around him, perfection. Renjun gasps, clawing at Lucas’ back to hold him closer. Lucas lowers himself to meet Renjun’s lips, maintaining his pace with each kiss, and Renjun mumbles all the sweet nothings he knows Lucas wants to hear.

“God, Xuxi.”

“Just like that.”

“Yes, _fuck_ , yes.”

And his favourite: “you’re so big, baby, fill me up so well.”

Fucking Renjun feels like walking along a path that awaits destruction: Lucas set on tearing him apart, devouring him whole, seeing how much of a mess he could make of the boy whose confidence lies in his composure. He fucks like he wants to see Renjun to abandon the way he carries himself, make him lose control and surrender to his desires. Become pliant under his touch, begging.

If there’s any difference between fucking Renjun against the counter and loving him on the floor, it’s this:

The choked, miniscule sigh that escapes when Lucas thrusts hard into him, and the moan that follows it, unleashed from the depths of Renjun’s throat. Unabashed, unafraid, Renjun moaning for the sake of Lucas _hearing_ it, an offer all for him, and his pleased expression in seeing how Lucas responds, panting alongside him.

The kisses Renjun places on Lucas’ face, his neck and his collar, all his weak attempts of pressing their skin together, fingers tight in Lucas’ hair and scratching into his shoulder. Their shared heat, their heartbeat, loud rabbit thumps beneath their skin.

The singular desire of making Renjun feel good, Lucas revolving his entire world onto a needle’s pin. He builds him up to crash back down, a gasp for air above the water’s surface before he pulls him under, dives deeper into him. He kisses his neck, sucks on the skin over his throat, marks him with his teeth; he angles himself and strokes slowly, drags out his length to let him feel everything, before he snaps his hips again, and again, fast to Renjun’s satisfaction. Lucas looks at him as if he’s drowning in his being, overwhelmed with the sound of his voice, his touch, his kiss.

It’s Lucas hushed “I love you” when they kiss like this, buried deep inside of Renjun, holding him in his arms like clinging onto a lifeline. He kisses Renjun over and over, mutters all the love and affection for him in three simple words — his dying breath, freely tumbling off his tongue, a final reminder of his love.

Renjun finishes untouched, taking both of them by surprise when he cries out, shaking through the orgasm with eyes shut. He cums over his stomach in white streaks, voice shattering, and immediately replaces his groan with Lucas’ lips, licking into his mouth with messy kisses.

Lucas doesn’t relent with his pace — he slides in and out without precision, hips erratic as he thrusts. He zeroes in on how Renjun feels around him: the brush of their thighs together, his dick knocking against his stomach. Renjun’s supple skin in his arms, giving, opening his mouth to let Lucas’ tongue run along his. Renjun, tight, clenched around Lucas’ dick, a piece of heaven found on earth.

Pleasure spindles in threads through his veins, weaving through his core, twists and tightens and comes undone all at once. Lucas’ gaze pans from Renjun’s lips to his eyes, now open, and he falls apart under the hollow of his pupils, wide enough for him to completely descend into their depths. His vision spots when he cums, shudders as he fills Renjun with heat, moaning his name.

Their bodies are motionless on the floor. Lucas is comfortable with the warmth around them, hazy and breathless with the come down, but Renjun winces when Lucas accidentally bucks his hips. He pulls out with a groan, caressing Renjun’s thighs with gratitude as he shuffles around on the floor.

“Wait,” Renjun says, searching for Lucas’ hand. His fingers linger down Lucas’ wrist, smooth over the plane of his palm, tugging at his fingertips. He taps his index finger against his lips. “Kiss me.”

Lucas hesitates for a moment before he arranges himself next to Renjun, half his leg swung over his thighs, one arm fitted below the curve of his nape. Like this, Lucas thinks they fit like a jigsaw puzzle: Renjun curls himself, leans closer to his torso, lips slotting together in perfect synchronicity. They kiss and the world stops on its axis, gentle and patient enough to indulge in the feeling. A little bit of Renjun’s cum sits sticky under Lucas’ palm but he doesn’t mind. He kisses Renjun without a care for anything else, his mind and body solely focused on the man in his arms.

When they pull apart, Renjun traces the edge of Lucas’ face with the back of his fingertips. Tender, featherlight, all of Lucas’ nerves on end, reaching for him. 

“You know,” Renjun says, looking down on himself. “I _just_ took a shower.”

“So?” Lucas retorts, wiggling his eyebrows. “We could shower together. Wash my back and I’ll wash yours.” He takes Renjun’s chin between his fingertips, pulls him in for another kiss. “Suck my dick and I’ll suck yours.”

“Well, in that case.” Renjun moves Lucas’ leg in favour of sitting on top of him, straddling his lap. He kisses him back, smiling. “Let’s go shower right now.”

  
  
  
  


Their waffle maker is fantastic. They mess up the first waffle but by the third try Lucas is a waffle-making fiend, Renjun his partner in crime. Dinner consists of crisp, delicious waffles, drizzled with ropes of maple syrup, coupled with beer and a bucket of fried chicken from the restaurant across the street: the perfect celebratory meal with his fiancé.

His _fiancé._ The word feels foreign in his head — “boyfriend” has been in his vocabulary for the past 10 years and might take a while to get rid of — but nothing about it feels wrong. Just another new thing to get used to for now, the rest of their lives to become acquainted with the word “husband”.

After dinner they sit on the couch, Renjun nestled into Lucas’ side as they watch TV. Lucas fiddles with Renjun’s hands in his lap, spinning the ring around his finger.

“Xuxi,” Renjun says during a commercial. “Why’d you decide to ask me today?”

Lucas had a feeling he would ask. He opens his mouth and closes it, spins the ring 360 degrees before answering Renjun. “It just felt right, I guess. Right to do it here, in our new home.” He lifts up Renjun’s other hand, kisses the darkened spot close to his knuckles. “Just us.”

“To be honest.” Renjun’s voice is wobbly, teetering words in his mouth. He looks toward the TV when he speaks again. “I was starting to wonder if you _ever_ would. I wanted to ask you instead of waiting but… but you said you’d be the one to propose.”

“I know.” Lucas kisses the side of Renjun’s head. His brown hair is baby soft beneath his lips, smells fresh like their shampoo, feels like home. “The ring’s been sitting in my wallet for months and it just never— I wanted everything to fall into place. For everything to be perfect. I’m sorry I kept you waiting for so long.”

Renjun lifts his hand up to examine his finger, stretching it in front of his face. The diamond catches under the ceiling light, reflecting and shining. Looking at it like this makes Lucas incredibly proud of his choice: simple but perfect, understated but still noticeable. 

Renjun sets down his hand again, weaving his fingers with Lucas’. “It’s okay. It doesn’t matter.” Renjun turns his head backwards, kissing Lucas’ jaw. “I’m just really happy to be with you. Now we can start thinking about the wedding.”

“Maybe after we pay off some of the mortgage, baobei. We just bought a house.”

Renjun twists in Lucas’ lap, fully turning to face him now. “Can we make a guestlist? Dejun and Yangyang have to be invited.” 

“Of course,” Lucas tilts up Renjun’s jaw, adjusts his head to kiss him on the lips, brushes his nose. “No question about it.”

Satisfied, Renjun turns back to rest his head against Lucas’ shoulder, curling into his arms. He hugs the blanket over his body, hugs Lucas even tighter.

Lucas feels around the side of the couch for the TV remote and flicks off the screen. In its absence, the usual sounds fill up the rest of the house: the refrigerator buzz, the honking Seoul street traffic, the ticking of the clock overhead. Lucas’ heartbeat, filling up his ears, and Renjun, sweetly humming in his lap, their faces pressed cheek to cheek.

Renjun, cuddly and comfortable in his lap, eyes shut, the most beautiful sight in the world. Renjun, whose heartbeat slows down, beats in sync with Lucas’ pulse, whose body reaches for Lucas, gravitates toward him, fingertips and skin knowing him better than anyone else. Renjun, his former boyfriend, now fiancé, soon to be his husband. 

He could spend forever like this.

**Author's Note:**

> update (200814): i commissioned a sketch from yaori94 for the [kitchen scene](https://twitter.com/yaori94/status/1294294466166046720)! check it out :)
> 
> it took me... way longer to write this one compared to _brh_. hope i've done my favourite couple justice and that you felt as emotional as i was while writing this ;; leave a comment or kudos if you liked it! thank you for reading ♡
> 
> details for this story that didn’t make the fic:  
> \- this takes place two years after renjun comes home from his master's program. lucas is 27, renjun is 26  
> \- lucas works an office job as a financial advisor. renjun is a physical therapist  
> 
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/boyfrendery) | [cc](https://curiouscat.me/boyfrendery)


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